Those Who Stayed Behind
by The Wolf in the North
Summary: Whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione are off hunting their Horcruxes, the normal witches and wizards of the Wizarding World had to adapt to life under the oppressive rule of Voldemort's regime. Minerva McGonagall watches as her home and life at Hogwarts turns into a nightmare of dark magic and torture, and tries in her subtle ways to resist the casual cruelty of the Death Eaters. Review?
1. Bangs in the Night

**(Author's Note: Sorry for a short first chapter, but if this gets any positive reviews and people are interested in reading more of Minerva's year under Voldemort's rule, then I'll continue ASAP! Please review and please be honest, including criticisms; I'm always looking to improve!) **

Bangs and explosions in the early hours were not uncommon at Hogwarts.

Many a night, Minerva McGonagall had been awoken by the shattering of chandeliers, or the slam of doors. That's why, at first, she assumed that Peeves was up to his usual mischief.

_What is the pest up to now? _she thought wearily, as a colossal crash came from downstairs. Dumbledore had improved the school in many ways, but allowing the poltergeist to stay was one of his worse moves; she resolved to petition the Ministry for his removal from the castle, preferably before the start of term next month.

Despite it being August, the corridors were draughty and she shivered through her thin tartan dressing gown as she ascended the stairs from what she could only think of as Dumbledore's office, although it was technically now hers.

The commotion had stopped, but looking out of the window, she could see the Front Doors. They were wide open, and the soft light of the Entrance Hall was spilling out onto the lawn.

McGonagall froze.

That door had been sealed with the strongest magic Minerva and her colleagues could muster. No one but her, Filius, Pomona and Horace returned to the school before the start of term, and no one but them could open that door. Horace was loath to get out of bed until midday at the best of times, so there was no way he would be in the grounds at night. Pomona or Filius might have business in the grounds, but there was no way they would leave the doors open considering the security measures that were imposed on the castle. Something was wrong - she could feel it in her bones.

It was just as she had come to that conclusion that a silver lynx popped into being before her; Shacklebolt's patronus, she was certain.

"_The Ministry has fallen…" _the deep voice of it's owner intoned. _"They are coming…"_

For a moment, Minerva McGonagall stared at the place where the auror's patronus had been a second ago in stunned disbelief. Even at the height of Voldemort's power last time, the Ministry had never faltered, not once. This only went to show how unstoppable he had become. She supposed though, without Dumbledore it had only been a matter of time. There were Ministry guards in the Grounds and stationed in Hogsmeade, Minerva realised. That explained the bangs and blasted open doors. No doubt they had received new orders from their head office to bring her in for questioning. If Voldemort now controlled the Ministry then… she shuddered to think what he would do to Dumbledore's old supporters. All the power that once had stood against Voldemort's influence was now either on his side or dead; they had lost.

But that did not mean those who remained would not or could not resist; Minerva whipped out her wand.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

Three cats burst from the end of her wand, and all headed off in separate directions; one to each of her colleagues.

With another flick of her wand, she transfigured the suits of armour in the hall into snarling wolverines, the like of which could still be found in the mountains around Hogwarts. Strong, vicious and starving hungry, she once might have felt sorry for any who encountered them. But not now.

With the wolverines prowling in the shadows, her silent companions, the Headmistress of Hogwarts would show the intruders what happened to those who entered her school unbidden.


	2. Surrender

Even from a floor up, Minerva could hear the intruders clear as day.

"…just kill the old bint!" someone growled.

"You leave Minerva McGonagall alone!"

Pomona, she realised. Of course, her office was just off the Entrance Hall, near the kitchens - they would have gotten to her first!

_Bang!_

"Shut it, y' stupid gardener!" the same voice roared.

"Now, now, Amycus," a horribly familiar, deadly soft voice reproached. "That's no way to treat your new colleague."

"Er, yes, Headmaster…" the Death Eater said.

Someone started to giggle.

"You know sometimes, I really wonder about you, brother," Alecto Carrow sniggered. "We were sen' 'ere to assist Snape, the Dark Lord said nothin' about 'im takin' away our sport! _Crucio!_"

As Pomona started to scream, Minerva decided she had listened for long enough. Wand held out ahead, wolverines snarling behind her, she stepped out onto the top of the stairs leading down into the Entrance Hall. The scene below her was enough to make her skin crawl. Even seeing Snape inside the school after last month would have been enough to make McGonagall furious, but the sight of him standing proud and tall over a cowering Sprout, with that insufferable sneer on his lips made her feel physically sick.

"Let the woman go, Alect-" Severus began lazily.

"_YOU!_" Minerva's voice quivered with rage as she pointed her wand at him. "YOU _DARE _TO ENTER MY SCHOOL, _DARE _TO, AFTER WHAT YOU'VE DONE?"

Everything stopped; Snape, Amycus, Alecto's giggling, Pomona's whimpers, and for a moment, everything was silent. And then Severus opened his mouth.

"Ah," he said. "Minerva. I'm afraid it _isn't _your school anymore. The Minister has given me a full pardon for the murder of Albus Dumbledore, and I have been appointed Headmaster."

"_A full pardon_?" she choked. "Your master's influence must be very wide indeed, if he can afford to spout such nonsense through his servants with impunity!"

"Careful, Minerva," Snape warned. "Mr Thicknesse has decided to allow you to continue as Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts, it would be an awful shame to throw away such an opportunity."

"An opportunity?" Professor McGonagall spat on the steps. "Give me one good reason to accept your _opportunity_."

"Your colleagues can see the sense in it, I'm sure," Snape gestured behind her, where Horace Slughorn was puffing towards her, with little Filius jogging at his heels. "Discuss it between yourselves, it makes no matter."

And with that, the new Headmaster of Hogwarts turned back to his cronies.

"Minerva," Horace panted. "Don't… don't do anything stupid. The Dark Lord has won and there is nothing we can do to stop him; the Ministry fallen, Dumbledore dead - we're powerless. Don't throw away your life for a lost cause."

Slughorn always had been a coward, but there was some truth in his words.

"The day I bow to Albus Dumbledore's murderer is the day I kill myself of shame," she said fiercely. "How can you even contemplate it?"

Slughorn made a sound like a dying dog, his features twisted in what she assumed was equal parts fear and anger.

"Nothing we can do, Minerva…" he muttered. "The Dark Lord… just too powerful!"

Flitwick tugged her dressing gown insistently, pulling her down to his level.

"Minerva," he whispered intently. "Think of the students who will be arriving next month; Ginny Weasley, Longbottom, Lovegood, the little first years! If we leave, who will protect _them_? I propose we stay, if only to protect our students as is our duty!"

For a moment, she could have kissed the little man. She had forgotten the students, forgotten what she _had _to do, rather than_ wanted _to do. Sheflushed with shame; choosing such reckless impulses over her duty was not something Minerva McGonagall did often, and, she swore to herself, was not something she'd do again.

"You're correct, as ever Filius," she agreed with a sigh. Behind her the wolverines became wisps of smoke as her need of them vanished. "I suppose there's no point in waiting about then."

She turned around to face Snape and his Death Eater friends.

"We surrender the castle to you, Severus," Minerva begrudged every word that passed her lips. "On the condition that I and my staff come to no harm."

"You are in no position at all to make bargains, Professor," Snape sneered. "But you were never going to come to harm anyway."

And with that, Snape simply swept up the stairs, his black cloak billowing behind him. "Come, Amycus, Alecto."

The brother and sister followed him, Alecto only pausing to throw a contemptuous glare at McGonagall. She was still bitter after being defeated in the Astronomy Tower in July, Minerva thought smugly.

With them gone, she hurried down the steps where Pomona was only just beginning to pick herself up.

"Are you alright?" she asked, offering her hand out to her friend.

"I… I'll be fine, Minerva, just a little shaken," she insisted, hauling herself up. "I suppose it's all over then."

"We've lost," Horace said in his most self-pitying voice.

"No, Horace," Flitwick squeaked. "We've lost the battle, but not the war! We're still alive, no?"

"And while we're alive, hope is alive," Pomona affirmed.

"Yes," Minerva was suddenly weary. "But I won't be alive much longer unless I have a drink."

"I can get you some pumpkin juice in my office, Professor?" Sprout nodded her head down the steps towards the kitchens.

"I'll have a drink with you, Pom," Minerva accepted. "But I want something a bit stronger than pumpkin juice, if you please."

Flitwick and Slughorn both yawned ascent as they all followed Pomona down the stairs and towards her office.


	3. Plan

The next day dawned dull and dreary, almost as if the heavens themselves despaired of the earth below. After several firewhiskies, the four Heads of Houses drifted into a drunken sleep in Pomona's office, where they remained until halfway through the morning. McGonagall had had nightmares, but as her eyes flickered open they were chased away by a light headache. She was told that Muggles suffered much more the morning after alcohol; Minerva was glad she wasn't a Muggle.

"You're awake," Sprout was sitting at her desk, the quill in her hand hovering over a leaf of parchment.

When Minerva gave it a quizzical look, Pomona sighed heavily.

"Severus came by first thing this morning," she explained. "As Alecto Carrow has been appointed Deputy Headmistress, it falls to her to send out letters to students. But she, as I'm sure you'll remember, is barely literate, so I am supposed to send owls to all the Muggleborns telling them that they are no longer wanted at Hogwarts and are going to be summoned to the Ministry for a hearing sometime in September."

Minerva knew she should be surprised, shocked, sickened, but she wasn't even that; Voldemort's reign meant changes, and she was sure that this was only the beginning.

"Pomona," McGonagall suddenly had an idea. "Include another message in the letter - tell them to run. Alecto Carrow cannot even read, she would never know."

Her friend frowned sadly.

"Min, Severus is going to read all the letters himself before allowing me to send them… He's got Aurors on all the gates, and Dementors patrol the skies."

"So there's no way to get a message out without him knowing of it," she thought for a moment, trying to find a way around it. There was none.

"What are we going to do?" Pomona stabbed her quill into the parchment in frustration. Ink ran into the clear page, like horrible black blood.

Minerva thought of the Muggleborn children at home now, the children she had taught; Dean Thomas, Hermione Granger, Colin and Dennis Creevey. They didn't know that they were soon to be dragged before the Ministry and sentenced for something they had no control over whatsoever. It made her so defensive of her students.

"Remember we have to keep our heads down," Slughorn had woken up. "We have to protect those few we can. It's all we can do."

"You've kept your head down all your life, Horace Slughorn," McGonagall snapped. "Just because I accepted my job back here doesn't mean I will suddenly become Snape's lapdog!"

"Minerva!" Horace sounded horrified. "The Dark Lord… He… has powers none of us could ever hope to rival… Even Snape has them to a certain extent… They'll crush us!"

"I'm not going to _openly _fight the Ministry, Horace," Minerva was getting impatient. "Do you take me for a fool?"

Slughorn looked lost.

"Then… what are you going to do?"

"Nothing, of course," she said. "Students like Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood… they all know and love Harry Potter. They will not lie down and take whatever Snape throws at them. They will fight, trust me. And when they fight, we ignore it, turn a blind eye, help them if we can do it without detection. That way, we cannot be blamed."

"But, Minerva," Slughorn laughed nervously. "Neville Longbottom… Luna Lovegood… They aren't the most powerful of wizards, even for Hogwarts students. I'll admit Ginny Weasley has a certain fire about her, but I can't see that they could resist Severus Snape!"

Minerva McGonagall's nostrils flared in ferocious pride. Even Pomona looked taken aback; Neville was a favourite of hers.

"Neville Longbottom is from the same cut as his mother and father were," she argued passionately. "He may once have been an incompetent boy, but that boy grew into an utterly different man! Luna Lovegood may seem to be an airy fairy little girl, but I assure you she is not - she was one of the few to escape the Department of Mysteries with no significant injuries at the age of fifteen."

Horace didn't look quite convinced, but he backed down anyway.

"I think it's a good idea," Pomona nodded firmly. "As long as it can be done without getting found out, I'm in."

"Thank you," Minerva gave Sprout a thin smile. "Now you, Horace. Are you with us?"

Slughorn squirmed in his seat.

"I… I really don't think…" he whimpered. "Minerva… I… not _realistic_… the Dark Lord…"

"Are you a wizard or a flobberworm?" McGonagall snapped. "You must decide, Horace. Choose where your loyalty lies."

"I…" Horace breathed deep. "Then I will agree to ignore the rebels. I will not help them, Minerva, that is where I draw the line."

"Thank you," Minerva realised she was forgetting something. "But there's someone else we must ask, no?"

Filius Flitwick was a small man, and obviously couldn't handle his alcohol as well as his larger colleagues. He was flat out in the corner, snoring ever so softly to himself.

As they all turned around to find him so, none of them could help but crack a smile.

"_Aguamenti!_" With a flourish of her wand, Sprout soaked the half goblin in water, waking him up immediately.

"What, what?" he gasped, water running down into his eyes.

"Min has a plan, Filius," Pomona explained Minerva's proposal. "Are you with us?"

Still dripping slightly, the little Charms professor nodded vigorously.

"Of course I'm with you!" he squeaked enthusiastically. "Whatever it takes to destabilise Snape!"

McGonagall smiled grimly.

"I knew you would support us, Filius," she said, standing up. "Come, our Headmaster awaits us, and the other teachers shall be arriving at the castle in a few hours time. We cannot stay hidden away forever."


	4. Punishment

Severus Snape seemed to dominate the table with his arrogance. All of the staff were present for the pre-term staff feast, which had to be held in Alecto Carrow's office because, to the staff's glee, Dumbledore's office refused to open to Snape.

"As I'm sure you've noticed," he addressed the staff around the table with his usual sneer. "There has been some _changes _at Hogwarts during the summer."

"There certainly 'as," Hagrid growled. "I come back after a month in France and I find murderers and worse 'ave infested my home!"

Snape's eyes flashed as the table fell silent, all eyes fixed on the new Headmaster; even the Death Eaters on either side of Snape stayed silent out of fear of that look.

"The new Minister for Magic has expressed some concerns to me about your suitability for teaching, Hagrid," his voice was low; McGonagall scented danger. "I assured him that you are… as competent as can be expected. But I can still have you replaced, if you would so wish."

"How can y' do it, eh, Snape?" Hagrid fumed. "After what y've done! An' you!" the giant gestured at the rest of the table. "McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Slughorn… How can y' just sit by an'… an' let 'im!"

McGonagall reminded herself of her students. For them, she had to stay silent.

"The staff of Hogwarts have accepted their lot, Hagrid," Snape explained softly. "As you would, if you possessed human intelligence. Sadly, that seems to be lacking in you of late… Did the fire in July addle your wits or is it just your savage nature coming out at last?"

Minerva thought that Hagrid was about to launch himself at the man before him, so she laid an hand on his arm.

"Rubeus, please," she said quietly. "Don't do anything foolish. It's not what Albus would have wanted."

"I DON' SUPPOSE 'E WANTED T' GET MURDERED, DID 'E, EH?" Hagrid roared, standing up so fast that his chair flew into the wall with a crash. "YOU ARE NO FRIEND O' MINE, MINERVA MCGONAGALL, IF Y'D LET THIS… THIS SNAKE INT' HOGWARTS!"

And with that, Hagrid stormed from the room, leaving an awkward silence hanging over the table.

"Before that raging _beast_ interrupted me," Snape broke the silence. "I was about to inform you of the changes taking place at Hogwarts this year. The first, and perhaps most important is that Muggleborns are no longer permitted to attend the school. The Ministry has decided that our pureblood and half-blood children are not to be exposed to the filth that was once let into our education system."

Some of the teachers around the table gasped at Snape's words, but Minerva simply exchanged dark looks with the other Heads of House.

"Are you shocked?" Snape asked. "It's been evident to me for many years that our young witches and wizards are being poisoned by the dirty blood that they are allowed to mingle with."

Everyone stayed silent then. They must have got the message.

"Good," Snape said at last. "The next change is the hierarchy of power in the school. Before the summer, Minerva took over as Headmistress, but it is the Ministry's decision that I am more suitable for the position. She has been very… _wise_, in submitting to me, I am sure you will all agree."

Snape was sneering at her as he spoke.

"Yes, _Headmaster,_" Minerva emphasised his title mockingly. She was not going to let the bastard humiliate her in front of her colleagues. "The Ministry decided, and we follow. We _all know _that the Ministry has it's pureblood servants best interests at heart. Tell me, how is the Minister? I had heard he seemed not himself recently… Although, I suppose he must miss Rufus Scrimgeour, they always were so close, even in school."

"Certainly, _Professor," _Snape sat up straight, his black eyes suspicious. "The Minister was fine when last I saw him, completely himself. In fact, if you are so concerned for our master's wellbeing I could arrange for him to pay you a visit, Minerva. Maybe _he _could make you see the truth of the matter…"

On either side of him, the Carrows smirked smugly.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, Severus, I believe you," Minerva proffered a silver jug. "Mint sauce?"

Snape ignored her offer.

"The last announcement that I wish to make is that Alecto and Amycus have been assigned the office of Masters of Discipline at Hogwarts this year," he said. "If any student is misbehaving in lessons, or perhaps airing dangerous views, then they are to be referred immediately to the Carrows, who, I am sure will be only too happy to see them punished."

Alecto started to giggle then, her chin wobbling grotesquely.

"Oh yes," she snorted; it seemed the wine had gone to her head. "Send the lit-_hic-_tle brats to us, we'll see they ge' wha's co-_hic-_min' to 'em!"

Aurora Sinistra, often one of the quieter teachers, sat up indignantly at this.

"And how do you intend to punish them?" she asked.

"We're more than competen' at painful spells," Amycus Carrow sniggered. "We've 'ad plenty o' practice.."

"If you are suggesting the Unforgivable Curses, _sir-" _Sinistra began.

But she wasn't able to continue; at that moment, Amycus Carrow stood abruptly stood up, drawing his wand immediately. It was instinct what happened next. Angling herself to keep Professor Sinistra behnd her, McGonagall threw herself in the way.

"Put away your wand," McGonagall said curtly.

"What're y' gonna do, eh, y' old bat?" he sneered. "Pu' me in detention, are we?"

McGonagall flicked her wand and the vile little man jerked his head as if he had been slapped. Her lipped curled in savage joy as a violent red welt appeared on his cheek.

"SIT DOWN!" Snape roared. "BOTH OF YOU!"

Jaw clenched in silent disgust, McGonagall sat back down in her seat.

"I think we need to make sure that you don't do something like that again, Minerva," Severus Snape stroked his chin in thought. "Until you can prove to me that you are able to restrain yourself, your position as Head of Gryffindor House is revoked. Amycus Carrow will take over until such a time as I decide… _if _I decide."

McGonagall wasn't happy, but she knew it could be worse.

"Fine," she muttered at last.

"Oh, do your students really not matter that much to you?" Snape asked, feigning shock. "I thought they would have, Minerva. Well, I suppose I shall confine you to the grounds for a year then. That should do it I think."

For a second, McGonagall could not believe what she had heard. He couldn't, _wouldn't _do it, surely? Her late husband was buried in Hogsmeade… How on earth was she meant to visit his grave?

"You're not banning me from Hogsmeade, Severus, surely?" Minerva asked, trying to catch his eye. McGonagall and Snape had never been what you could call friendly, but they were always polite with each other. She hoped he might remember that.

"Yes, I do believe I am, Minerva," Snape smiled cruelly, taking a sip of wine. "You need to learn your lesson after all. It must be something to do with Gryffindor House… Mr Potter never could control his temper either."

Amycus and Alecto chortled at Snape's quip, but McGonagall was fighting back her tears. For the first time, Minerva could really sympathise with Harry and his explosive temper; Snape really was the most spiteful, despicable person at Hogwarts.


	5. The Gentle Giant

**(Author's Note: If you're enjoying this, please tell me. If you're not, tell me how you think I could improve. I love all feedback! Thank you!)**

When she got back to her office, Minerva had to use all of her self control not to break down in tears. She would not give Snape the satisfaction, oh no; but it was so hard. It seemed that at Snape's words, everything had become real to her - Dumbledore and Mad Eye were dead, the war was as good as lost, Snape had utter control over her and there was nothing she could do about it… yet. Harry was still out there, the Order must have gone underground, there were still those loyal to Dumbledore at Hogwarts; all these things gave her hope. And she guarded that little glimmer of light with her power.

It was not Minerva McGonagall's style to sit around whilst there were things to be done, and she certainly did not intend to do that this evening; Rubeus Hagrid was in his hut right now, probably plotting murder or worse. He had always been a good friend to Albus but he was going to throw his life away like a fool. She wouldn't let him, Minerva resolved as she fastened her cloak around her neck.

Hogwarts had never seemed so much like a prison than that night. Walking through the castle on her way down to Hagrid's, everything seemed different somehow. The flickering light cast by the torches on the walls draped the corridors in shadow, making McGonagall jumpy. Hogwarts was no longer the home it had been, that much was now clear.

When she reached the Entrance Hall, Minerva almost broke into a run as she caught a glimpse of the clear star strewn sky through the Front Doors; this place was suffocating her.

"Oh, is the crazy cat lady leaving the school?" someone voice cackled behind her. "If I was a good little Peeves, I'd go to Professor Snape and tell on her."

McGonagall stopped in her tracks and counted to ten - right now, she felt like she could curse the poltergeist into oblivion.

"I am going for a walk in the grounds, Peeves," she explained through gritted teeth. "I need the fresh air."

"Hmmmmmm…" the poltergeist chewed his lip in thought. "But I _should _be a good little Peeves, don't you think?"

McGonagall was struck by a sudden brainwave.

"When have you ever respected authority at Hogwarts, Peeves?" she asked. "Why would you be good for Snape?"

Peeves gasped mockingly.

"Peevesy thinks the cat lady is telling him to be naughty!" he exclaimed gleefully. "Is she, I wonder?"

"Don't be naughty _now, _Peeves," Minerva said. "Save that till you can have a larger audience."

Peeves' response to her proposition was to blow a large raspberry and then hurtle off up the stairs; she took that as a yes.

Relieved, she walked out of the Front Doors into the grounds. It was a cold night for August, but it had been the same all summer; a low mist was swirling over the lawn, tendrils venturing out over the lake which was as still and reflective as a mirror. The full moon was reflected in it. McGonagall shivered as several black shapes obscured the silvery orb for a split second - Dementors in the sky, just as Pomona had said.

Pulling her cloak tight around her to ward against the chill, she walked across the lawn briskly. Minerva McGonagall had no wish to linger in the grounds tonight.

Hagrid's hut emerged from the swirling white suddenly, the windows shining with warm light. She rapped the door quickly.

"Go 'way!" Hagrid called, sounding more than a little drunk.

"Rubeus, we must speak," McGonagall knocked again. "It's about tonight!"

"Why should I speak to y', eh?" he called, a bitter edge to his voice.

"Because if you don't I will blast down this door!" Minerva was fast losing patience, and besides - it was _cold._

"Ah, 'lright then," the door opened, revealing a swaying Hagrid. "What did y' wan', damn y'?"

McGonagall entered and fixed the giant with her sternest glare.

"First I want you to sober up," she said. "What I am about to tell you must not be leaked and your tongue is very loose when you have been drinking."

Hagrid nodded slowly, before leaving the hut. McGonagall waited patiently for a few minutes until he returned, dripping in water.

"Say what y' gotta say, Professor," Hagrid towelled his bushy hair. "Say it 'n' go."

"Of course, Rubeus," McGonagall sat down at the table, pausing to scoop some dog biscuits from her seat. "What I am about to discuss with you is of vital importance to the Order - you cannot mention it to anyone."

The man nodded solemnly, so she explained her plan to him.

Hagrid listened patiently while she spoke, but when she had done, Minerva was shocked to see that his eyes were brimming with tears.

"Oh, look a' me," he blubbered. "Dumbledore gone f' five minutes 'n' I'm already breakin' down! I-I-I'm sorry, Professor, my t-temper is jus' so on e-

edge now tha' Snape's back in th' castle!"

Dismayed with Hagrid's outburst, McGonagall rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him.

"Calm down, Rubeus," she whispered intently. "These tears… they were fine before, if unnecessary. But now… now, we can't afford to make mistakes. We have to be strong, we are occupied by the enemy! Now is the time to be strong, man, not start weeping at the drop of a kneazle!"

The giant sniffled some more, wiped his nose with a tablecloth sized handkerchief and then pulled Minerva into a massive hug.

"Y' right, o' course!" he said in her ear. "I can see why Dumbledore trusted y' so much."

"Erm, yes, thank you, Rubeus," McGonagall extracted herself gently from Hagrid's tree trunk arms. "Now I really must be getting back up to the castle. Remember to keep this a secret. When term starts next week, I expect to see you in the grounds, teaching. Is that understood?"

"O' course, Professor," Hagrid smiled. "If ever you need anything', I'm always 'ere."

"Thanks again," she bowed her head to him and left the hut, dreading the walk back up to the castle.


	6. Beans and Toast

The rest of August crawled by, boring and dull.

Usually bustling with activity before the start of term - house elves running to and fro, teachers planning and setting up lessons, Dumbledore surveying it all with a benevolent smile - the castle seemed dead. McGonagall visited her fellow teachers several times, often spending the afternoon with Pomona in the greenhouses. It was strangely calming to take care of plants, Minerva found. Mists continued to swirl over the grounds, and a constant patter of light rain was present all day. And of course, Snape was hovering over it all; they could all feel his moody, brooding mind on them from his dungeon.

Hagrid left his hut the day after the pre-term feast, and he managed to keep his head high as he lumbered around the castle, taking care of this and that. Severus said nothing more of the incident and neither did he.

Peeves stayed true to McGonagall's idea, though he acted a little prematurely for her plans; chandeliers often mysteriously came crashing off of the ceiling in the early hours, or a suit of armour would suddenly go smashing down the staircase, usually narrowly missing Alecto Carrow. Minerva and her colleagues watched as Peeves terrorised their new masters with vengeful joy, feigning ignorance and helplessness.

On the first of September, she woke to the same weather the castle had been shrouded in all summer; rain tapped it's wet, grey fingers against the window as she got out of bed and dressed silently. Today was the first day of term, she knew, and it wasn't going to be good.

The High Table was nearly empty at six o'clock in the morning, McGonagall's usual breakfast hour; this morning only Snape and Sprout sat there, both at opposite ends. If she had a knife, Minerva was sure she could have cut through the atmosphere like butter.

"Morning, Pomona," she sat down and began to butter some toast, completely blanking Snape.

"Hello, Minerva," Sprout replied stiffly. "Have you got much to prepare for lessons in the week?"

"No," McGonagall glanced at Snape bitterly. "Most of my classes are very small now, _it's like my students have vanished over the summer._"

Eyes shooting quickly between the Headmaster and her friend, Pomona tried to defuse the situation.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I have a few Puffapods I need to-"

"Actually, Minerva," Snape cut across Sprout silkily. "I may require your help tonight with the Welcome Feast. Whilst most of the students will know that I am taking over as Headmaster, there may still be a few students who want to… _rebel_. You are to inform them all, before I enter the Great Hall, that Hogwarts is no longer the cesspit of dirty blood and allowed disobedience that it once was; if they rebel, they will be punished."

Snape smiled in self-satisfaction.

"Of course, Headmaster," McGonagall felt herself flushing; the cheek of the man!

"And also," Severus' eyes glittered spitefully. "The Minister and I thought it might be best to have you hand over Hogwarts to me _officially, _to save any confusion."

She felt her lips thinning, as they always did when someone wound her up.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking that maybe you could give something iconic of the school to me…" Snape frowned in thought. "The Sorting Hat might do."

It was better than she had expected, but she was still suspicious; something about his manner was gloating, she felt.

"And how am I going to hand it over, I wonder?" McGonagall asked.

"I was thinking you might put it on your head and kneel," Snape explained softly. "To represent you being allowed back into my staff."

Sprout opened her mouth in shock, and McGonagall forgot about her toast, hand halfway between mouth and plate.

"_I beg your pardon?_"Minerva made her tongue a whip, so she sounded how she did when dealing with her pupils.

"_I said_," Snape snarled, his smugness forgotten. "That you will _kneel _when you hand over Hogwarts to me."

It was only the thought of her students that stopped her from drawing her wand; this… man, if he could be called one, had taken her job, her husband, her freedom and now he was going to take her dignity?

"Yes," she replied, her lips barely moving. "I feel like some fresh air. Excuse me."

Minerva McGonagall stood and, forgetting her toast utterly, she left the Great Hall.

A few hours later, Minerva decided she would go down to the greenhouses. She remembered that Pomona had started asking her to help with the Puffapods, so she found the Herbology professor pottering around greenhouse three.

"Pom," McGonagall said as she walked in.

Sprout jumped as Minerva spoke, and dropped several beans all over the floor; she swore loudly as they all began to flower immediately.

"Damn!" Sprout cursed. "They were meant to be for Slughorn!"

"I'm sorry," McGonagall was taken aback; Pomona was usually very relaxed. "It was an accident."

She sighed, suddenly looking so old and weary.

"No," Sprout said apologetically. "It was my fault. It's just this month and all that's happened… Forgive me?"

"Of course," Minerva pulled her wand out and pointed it at the flowering beans; they were useless now. "_Evanesco!_" she flicked her wand and the beans vanished with a pop. "Let me help with that."

They worked in silence, both of them taking solace in the quiet companionship. It took them nearly an hour and a half, but eventually they had produced a huge bucket full of beans waiting to be powdered by Slughorn.

As they walked up towards the castle, Pomona checked her watch. "It's nearing seven o'clock!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "We must have been in the greenhouses for three hours!"

McGonagall nodded acknowledgement; the Hogwarts Express would soon be drawing into Hogsmeade. She needed to find Peeves quickly - there was no way that Minerva McGonagall was going to kneel to Severus Snape without causing some serious disruption of his new, totalitarian regime.


	7. The Not So Welcoming Feast

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but I've made it extra long as an apology. As ever, reviews are welcome!**

Alecto Carrow's lip curled.

"Why would I wanna go fetch the little brats?" she sneered. "Jus' because that fat oaf who brings 'em across the lake can't 'erd 'em up 'imself!"

McGonagall clenched her fist at the casual racism that the Death Eaters directed towards Hagrid.

"You _are _Deputy Headmistress, Carrow," she explained wearily. "It's part of your job."

"Go do it y'self, y' old bitch," she spat on the ground at Minerva's feet.

Sniffing in distaste, McGonagall stalked off in what she hoped looked like cold fury.

In reality, she had been praying that the woman would react that way; if she was dealing with the first years, there was no way Snape could blame her for what Peeves had planned.

When she had asked the poltergeist to cause chaos as the students arrived at the school, Peeves had simply cackled enigmatically before zooming off through the blackboard. As before, she hoped that meant he had something big up his sleeve.

The castle seemed to be waking up almost, after a long sleep. House elves, who throughout the school year only operated over night, now scuttled up and down the staircases, lighting torches and sweeping away a summer's worth of accumulated dust. Even more activity could be heard under the floor of the Entrance Hall, in the kitchens; shouts and simmers and a barely audible _tap-tap-tap _of a knife against the chopping boards. The house elves made Minerva sad - the amount of times Hermione Granger had petitioned her for the release of them from what she considered enslavement, she had lost count of. Minerva hoped somewhere out there, Hermione was safe. The girl was a more than able witch, and she would likely be with Harry. They would be alright, she was sure.

But now she couldn't afford to waste any more time fretting; through the Front Doors, McGonagall heard Hagrid in the distance: "C'mon firs' years! Row!"

They would be here soon, and she needed to be downstairs to greet them. Hoping whatever Peeves had planned was good enough, Minerva crossed the Entrance Hall and started to climb down the stairs to the underground cave where the boats would soon be docking, bringing the latest first years to Hogwarts. She felt sorry for them; they would never know the warmth and feeling of home that she and countless others before and after her had felt for Hogwarts. For them, it would just be a place of pain and torture - but she would do all she could to protect them.

Downstairs, it was pitch black darkness apart from little pinpricks of light that seemed to be coming closer with each passing second; the students were nearly here. Minerva flicked out her wand and conjured some warm yellow flames to make a glowing pathway along the lake. It wasn't something she usually did, but the grounds were enough to freeze you to the bone tonight and she didn't want all of the first years being in the hospital wing with pneumonia till November.

Hagrid nodded at her respectfully as he let the first years disembark from their boats on the shore. The giant, she noticed, made no move to leave his.

"Are you not coming to the feast, Rubeus?" McGonagall asked as the first years gathered around her, pale and shivering.

"Not this year, Professor," Hagrid replied glumly. "I'm jus' gonna go back to my hut an' 'ave some tea wi' Fang."

"Have a good evening, Rubeus," She could understand why he wasn't coming, so she simply inclined her head.

"Thanks, Professor," Hagrid rowed off, the now empty boats following his like sheep to a shepherd.

Minerva turned to face the first years.

"Follow me, we're going up to the castle to get warm," she tried to make her voice kind. "You will then be Sorted into your Houses."

As the gaggle of tiny students climbed behind her, she explained each house at Hogwarts and the way the school was run. They soaked everything in in a nervous silence.

At the top of the stairs, she lead them into the side room off the Great Hall and told them to wait. "I will be back shortly to escort you into the Hall."

Minerva left them chatting quietly and walked briskly back into the Entrance Hall and was about to enter the Great Hall when someone touched her shoulder.

"Remember, Minerva," Snape whispered icily. "You will do as I have told you, or you and your students will be punished."

She turned her head and froze. Snape's eyes momentarily entranced her - cold and black they were, yet they reminded her of another pair that she had seen in her life, red, slitted ones, that screamed rage. Only once in both wars had Minerva McGonagall ever come face to face with Lord Voldemort, but that time she would remember until she died. It was a few weeks before James' and Lily's deaths, and intelligence had reached the Order that Voldemort was planning an attack on Azkaban. The news reached Minerva first, so she sent the owl onto Dumbledore who was at the Ministry and immediately Apparated to the wizard prison, taking just Pomona, Aberforth Dumbledore, Filius and Horace with her. They found the place already under attack. Bellatrix Lestrange, the Malfoys, Barty Crouch Junior - all of Voldemort's inner circle were there, working spells on the thick stone walls which, thankfully, stayed strong. The Order members immediately engaged in duels; each of them had to take on two or three Death Eaters each, so it was incredibly close. But in the end, Minerva managed to tie up both Crouch and Lucius Malfoy, whilst Pomona and Horace knocked out Bellatrix. Even Aberforth managed to stun Yaxley. They were just about to finish off the battle, when the wind, raging just a second ago, died and the sun seemed to set, despite it being just past midday.

Voldemort had arrived.

He swooped down on them, making immediately for Minerva - she was the most accomplished duellist in the war present, so he obviously wanted to kill her first. But that was his biggest mistake that day. When he sent curse after curse hurtling at her, she was knocked of balance, yes, but she could deflect them to some extent. Her colleagues began to attack him from each side as they fought ferociously, but this only served to enrage him. With a shriek of rage, he knocked Filius, Pomona, Horace and Slughorn down and advanced towards her. His eyes seemed to be staring into her, transfixing her, like he could know everything about her if he wanted.

And then with a hundred small _pops, _Dumbledore and what seemed half of the Auror Office arrived on the scene, surrounding Voldemort. In a vivid flash of red light, at least fifty Stunners were sent at the Dark Lord… but not one ever touched him. When their eyes had recovered from the burst of light, there was no one there. He had Disapparated.

Snape's eyes had just done the same to her, it was like they were stripping away all the layers and looking into her innermost self.

Severus smirked.

"Remember that I control every aspect of your little life, Minerva," he said, voice low and threatening. "You continue to live because our Minister has decided to give you mercy. We know of your closeness to Mr Potter and other Undesirables. You are on our register of untrustworthy witches and are under surveillance. Do not push your luck further."

_One day, _Minerva thought to herself. _One day I'm going to duel this man, and kill him if I can._

But when she opened her mouth, all she said was, "Yes, Severus."

Turning on her heel, McGonagall pushed the heavy doors open and paced down the centre of the house tables. Everyone stopped and stared at her, making it clearly obvious they were confused about what was going on. When she walked past Neville and Ginny, she smiled and patted them on the shoulder.

"What's going on, Professor?" Neville murmured.

"You'll see," she replied, carrying on towards the High Table.

Standing at the front, Minerva stared out at the sea of faces before her. So many were missing…

"Good evening," she projected her voice, and it echoed off the cold stone walls. There was no life here anymore. "Many of you are wondering, I imagine, why I have not brought the first years in to be Sorted. They are waiting outside, have no fear; Professor Snape merely asked for me to make some announcements before he entered."

At the word Snape it was like someone had lifted a Silencing Charm on the students. The three tables of red, yellow and blue all muttered darkly, but unfeigned glee and malice glittered in the eyes of the Slytherin students. Not one of their number was missing this year.

"_Quiet!_" McGonagall barked. "Now, there are, as I'm sure you know, several changes being made to Hogwarts this year. First, the Ministry has decided that Muggle-borns are no longer permitted to attend the school."

Again, muttering erupted. On the far right of the hall, Slytherins were high-fiving each other triumphantly, but the three tables on the right were outraged.

"It's disgusting!" One Ravenclaw sixth year called.

"Bigot!" A Hufflepuff third year spat.

"It's unfair!" A little Gryffindor second year squeaked.

"It's You Know Who!" Neville stood up and roared it. "He's taken over, can't you all see? Snape being allowed back, Harry on the run… Are you all stu-"

Severus burst into the hall then, and silenced the shouting with a bang.

"_Longbottom_," he snarled.

And then several things happened at once.

From outside in the Entrance Hall, a gleeful laughing could be heard, the golden plates were suddenly full of food and a house elf appeared with a _crack _not two feet from Minerva.

"You murdered Professor Dumbledore and you made Harry Potter run!" the elf cried, it's voice high and pitchy. "You shall not harm Neville Longbottom too!"

The elf clicked his fingers and Snape suddenly flew backwards into the wall, like he had been punched by a gigantic fist.

Peeves hurtled in then, a maniacal grin pulling at his lips. He picked up a bowl of trifle and threw it at the Slytherin table.

"FOOD FIGHT!" he cackled.

To use a Muggle expression, all hell broke loose. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and Ravenclaws alike picked up the food in front of them and began to lob it at each other. Mashed potatoes, slices of pie, carrots, jugs of gravy, even the odd mint humbug - the air was suddenly full of food and laughter.

Whilst all this went on, the house elf, who had perhaps puzzled Minerva most, Disapparated back to wherever he had come from.

Minerva and the staff at the table behind her made some half hearted attempts to stop the chaos, but in truth they revelled in it. Professor Flitwick even threw a sneaky Yorkshire pudding at the Slytherins as the Carrows hurried to help Snape get back up.

But of course, it eventually had to stop.

Severus stood up, and whipped his wand out with such an expression of unutterable rage upon his face that Minerva made a non-verbal shield around the students.

"STOP THIS MADNESS!" the Headmaster roared, firing stunning spells in random directions. McGonagall flinched as several Hufflepuff girls collapsed - her shield obviously wasn't strong enough to protect them all. "I-I-GET OUT! GET OUT _NOW!_"

As if suddenly snapping out of a dream, realising what happened to the girls could happen to them, students exchanged terrified glances and scurried out of the doors, causing a major blockage in their hurry to get away from Snape who was still firing stunners at random people; they were usually blocked though.

"A YEAR'S DETENTION, LONGBOTTOM!" Snape roared over the stamping of feet.

"But, Headmaster," Minerva said, fingering her wand in her pocket. The temptation to curse him was nearly overwhelming. "What of the first years? They must be Sorted."

Shaking with fury, Snape spat at her, "It will wait for tomorrow!"

McGonagall nodded curtly.

"I will arrange for them to sleep in here," she said. "Teachers, go to your Houses if you wish. Filius, Renervate all the students who have been stunned. Amycus, Alecto, clear up the food if you please."

Leaving the brother and sister making rude gestures at her back, Minerva began to pick her way through the food.

"Can't y' see?" she heard Alecto whisper intently to Snape. "It's 'er! She put the stupid pol'ergeist up to it!"

"Minerva McGonagall is not stupid enough to rebel against us," Severus snapped.

"Don' be an idiot, Snape," Amycus growled. "It's obvious she's done somefin'! Y' gotta punish 'er… don' wan' the Dark Lord 'earing you've bin defending the Order of the Phoenix now, do we?"

Sensing danger, she began to walk briskly towards the double doors.

"The Order of the Phoenix is no more," Snape snarled. "Now you will be silent, or the Dark Lord will know the reason that you disobeyed me when you have been commanded to follow me."

Relieved that she hadn't been "punished", Minerva quickly fetched the first years, who now looked positively petrified.

"There's been an incident with the Welcome Feast," she explained, gesturing for them to follow her back into the Great Hall. "It was nothing too major, of course, but your Sorting Ceremony will take place tomorrow night instead."

Thankfully, the Carrows had made a swift job of cleaning the Hall - Snape and his cronies had already left - and Flitwick was supporting a dazed Ravenclaw boy with blood pouring down his forehead.

"Oh dear, dear," the little man squeaked. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"You will sleep in here tonight," McGonagall flicked her wand and the tables flew back to the walls and sleeping bags popped into existence on the floor. She waved it again and ten trays with steaming mugs of hot chocolate and sandwiches were hovering before the crowd of first years. "This will refill itself until you are full. Don't stay awake past ten or Mr Filch will have you in detention. Good night."

And with that, she left the first years to their hot drinks and dreams. It had been a long day, and Minerva could hear her bed calling.


	8. A New Student

**Author's Note: I've decided that this fic is going to take a rather AU-y twist down the line somewhere. I'm not going to tell you when or where, but just keep it in mind! **

The next morning when Minerva awoke, she could have sworn for a second that she had spotted a pair of huge eyes peering at her from the wardrobe. But when she rubbed her eyes sleepily, they disappeared and she put them from her mind for the rest of the day.

On the way down to the Great Hall, McGonagall remembered Neville; he had openly defied Snape the night before. It was the height of foolishness, she thought, although honestly she couldn't blame him - people were just so wilfully blind, like sheep to the slaughter.

But she could not allow him to do anything else _openly_, not for a while at least. If her plans for continuing the resistance at Hogwarts were to succeed, the students needed a strong leader and, despite Neville's poor past, Minerva McGonagall was convinced he was the man for the job. How was she supposed to suggest all of this, though, without the Headmaster getting suspicious? How were they supposed to share their plans throughout the year, without being noticed?

By the time she was at the High Table and eating a slice of toast in a mechanical, distant sort of way, she was sure that she had decided on a way that even Snape couldn't question.

The poor lad was covered in bruises when she found him, sitting with Ginny Weasley and Seamus Finnegan at the Gryffindor Table. At the sight of Minerva, all three of them shut up straight away, and the Weasley girl became suddenly fascinated by a silver spoon.

"Longbottom," she tried to sound cold and uncaring as she handed him his timetable. "Here's your lessons for this year, but I've taken away two of your free periods and replaced them with Transfiguration."

Neville nearly choked on his orange juice.

"But I failed my OWL, Professor!" he protested.

"You also proved your skills to me on top of the Astronomy Tower in July, Longbottom," she explained.

"I've missed an entire year of Transfiguration," he carried on, his voice rising a little. "I'll be sure to fail my NEWT!"

"Yes, there are matters of great _importance _that we need to catch up on," she said, hoping he would get her message. "That is why we shall be having weekly practice sessions on Monday evenings."

"I… uh," Neville's face shifted as he understood what she was saying. "Of course, Professor, thanks."

He went back to his bacon, but it was too late - Snape had already caught a whiff of trouble and he was speeding towards them like an oversized bat.

"What is going on here, Minerva?" his voice was silky but when he turned towards Neville his eyes filled with spite.

"Nothing that requires the Headmaster's attention, Severus," Minerva said, a little too quickly. "I was just handing out the new Gryffindor timetables as," she cast a disapproving glace towards the High Table where Alecto Carrow sat glugging tea and scoffing eggs. "Our new Head of Gryffindor has failed to do so."

"Ah," Snape snatched the timetable from Neville's fingers and looked down his hooked nose at the paper. "Transfiguration? Longbottom failed atrociously at his Transfiguration OWL, if I remember correctly… How _curious _that he should take it up again now."

McGonagall held his accusing stare and smiled.

"Longbottom here showed great promise for my subject on the Astronomy Tower, Headmaster," she said smugly. "I seem to recall him taking down three attackers by transfiguring a banister into a python; it was an impressive piece of spell work."

"Well, good luck with him then, Minerva," Snape sneered, dropping Neville's new timetable onto it's owner's scrambled eggs. "At least he can't melt forty seven cauldrons in your lessons."

And with that, he stalked off, leaving both McGonagall and Neville overwhelmed with relief.

"I expect you in my office at eight o'clock sharp, Longbottom," she hurried off to hand out the rest of the timetables and then went to teach the first lot of her students for the year.

Five sets of Slytherins, four of Gryffindors, two of Ravenclaws and some Hufflepuffs later, Minerva McGonagall was in her office, marking some essays from her seventh years. Most of them were showing less promise than a Neville Longbottom's potion making, but she had to begrudgingly admit that Draco Malfoy's essay on Transspecies Transformations was impressive. He was growing to be twice the wizard his father was.

A knock at her door prompted her to put down her quill.

"Enter," she called, shutting her window and soundproofing the walls with a sharp flick of her wand.

Longbottom entered, looking both apprehensive and excited, and closed the door behind him.

"I'm guessing you didn't just want me for remedial Transfiguration, Professor?" he asked, sitting down.

"No, of course not," McGonagall looked at him, wondering if he really was up to the task she was about to set him. "Let's cut the lies and cover up stories, Longbottom - we both know what has _really _happened at the Ministry this summer. Your Grandmother may not be my favourite witch, but she is no fool."

"So he took over then?" Neville was pale, but his jaw was set in a way that Minerva approved of. "Gran's been telling me he has all summer, but I suppose I didn't want to believe her until now."

"Yes, He Who Must Not Be Named orchestrated a coup at the Ministry in August," she confirmed. "And before you ask, yes, Mr Potter and his friends escaped unharmed to the best of our knowledge."

"So what's happening then, Professor?"

"The Order has gone underground, and He Who Must Not Be Named has triumphed for the moment," Minerva sighed. "We teachers are cut off here at Hogwarts… The walls and Snape prevent any contact with our old allies."

"But we're going to fight back, right?" Neville seemed to be getting excited. "At Hogwarts?"

"Not as you might hope, Longbottom," she said. "We can't afford to rebel openly, not at the moment, while we're alone. I want you to reform Dumbledore's Army, as it was under Umbridge, but you must understand this - Snape is not Dolores Umbridge. He can use the Cruciatus Curse and worse on any you may implicate with impunity. Keep it low key, but resist anyway."

"What's the point, if we're not doing anything important?" Neville sounded a little disappointed.

"Your little acts of rebellion will give people hope, Longbottom," she rummaged in her drawer for something she had just remembered. "I recall that Miss Granger devised an ingenious system for communication, involving coins, a few years ago. Snape may know of this but it is the only thing I can think of that will work."

She placed a handful of dull silver sickles on the desk.

"I've changed the coin so that it might confuse our Headmaster for a while. I won't have a coin myself; I will communicate my plans to you via Patronus, which is much more secure than this way. When you know my intentions, you will communicate them to the army through the coins. Understood?"

Neville nodded, but looked a little intimidated.

"I… I can't do Protean charms, Professor," he said, voice heavy.

"Which is why you are going to be attending extra classes with me this year," McGonagall nearly laughed at the dismay on his face. "No, I wasn't just using that as a cover, Longbottom. Your school work is still important! Repeat after me…"

They spent hours performing spells, Minerva demonstrating then helping as he made at first clumsy, then quite skilled attempts at imitating her. By midnight, she had taught Neville a Protean Charm and he was getting more and more confident with Transspecies Transformations (he managed to turn a mouse into a cat, but she deducted points when it squeaked).

Just before he left to go to bed, her new student turned and said something that echoed in her head for the rest of the night. "It's nice to know that we're finally taking on You Know Who, you know? Like we're making a difference." Then he left without another word.

But McGonagall was up till just before dawn, thinking. Were they really taking on You Know Who by encouraging schoolchildren to be naughty? What were they really doing for the Order by starting a spate of detentions or maybe even worse, for innocent teenagers? It was as the pale autumn moonlight streamed in through the frosted panes of glass in McGonagall's window that she realised… She was alone, cut off, cornered with no one for help but her colleagues and an army of students. But this was all she had, this was all _the Order_ had. So she decided that, even if it was hopeless, she would make the most of the weapons at her disposal. She would watch and wait for the right moment, gathering power all the time; when the time came, she knew what would happen.

"_Rebellion…_" Minerva breathed, savouring the word and the fight that it promised.


End file.
